Who You Are
by Sophiebybophie
Summary: A second; That's all it took for a fracture to split this branch of fate. Robin's seeing things that aren't there, hearing voices that shouldn't exist, and living in a timeline that ran a different course.


Summary: A second; That's all it took for a fracture to split this branch of fate. Robin's seeing things that aren't there, hearing voices that shouldn't exist, and living in a timeline that ran a different course.

This all started with an idea, then that idea turned into something more. /bows/ I hope you like this. I've tried my very best at reaching my goal of five thousand words 3 Thank you for giving this a chance! /bows/

* * *

Chapter I: Mother's Song

Jeremy Soule - Fear Not This Night (feat. Asja)

* * *

Ash fills the air, burning his tan skin and coating it gray. Hearing people scream from outside, Robin clenches his jaw, keeping quiet. A desperate sort of fear builds from his young heart and sends it racing. He wants to run—to run far, far away from this destruction. Clutching his mother's cloak, Robin ducks down to her side, heart hammering like a hummingbird's. His mother's protective aura is the only thing keeping him still as thoughts of running away fill his head. Turning his face into her side, he breathes in her warmth. _'Is this the day I die?'_ He opens his mouth for words that won't come. _'Stay quiet when hiding.'_ His mind instructs. It doesn't help that fear causes his muscles to freeze up. He licks his dry lips, tasting more ash, and his shoulders shake.

Feeling a hand settle on top of his head, Robin jerks up; red eyes meet his mother's icy grey ones. He's lost as she watches him and together they fall into silence, staring at one another. He wants to ask questions, to ask why this was happening. And he wants his mother to tell him, _'Everything is going to be okay.'_ But his will falters. Instead, he scans his mother's face for a sign. Anything to tell him it would be okay to talk.

Nothing.

Now staining her snow-white skin, dirt and blood spread from her chin to her left cheek. Silver bangs cling to her sweaty forehead— reminding him once again of the incredible heat that crackles from the outside. A ray of orange colors her face and he wishes it were from a sunrise.

 _Like the ones we always watch together._

When he meets her unfocused eyes, he feels his heart give a painful squeeze. She looks completely exhausted, worn like old leather. Hoping to dissipate the cold fear that threatens to swallow him up, Robin's small hands cling to her robe.

He...he wants to say that holding her robe helps. To say he feels safer feeling her warmth. But he can't; he'd be lying. There's something else that kept him from believing in the hope of survival. Staring into her face, his eyes trail down to her lips, stopping at her smile. Where it had once been bright, it now waivers, and he can't look away, even though it hurts to watch. His hands turn to fists. He feels as if he's watching the end of something beautiful. The last of his mother's embers of hope, fading away.

A jolt shoots up his spine as the hand on his head moves, ruffling his short white locks. Just that touch makes him feel lighter. Closing his red eyes, he feels his mother's fingers comb through his soft hair, nearly making him melt. An almost silent hum reaches his ears; opening his eyes, he focuses on her fading smile. His mother continues to hum, lips twitching as sadness threatens to overwhelm her. Humming a crumbling song like a dying canary.

Watching her struggle _hurt, and hurt, and hurt_. He wants to shout, to tell her to stop. _'Stop trying if it hurts so much'_. But _—'...butwhatifitstheonlythingkeepingherhappy_ '— he just can't; _Won't._

Her song continues.

After a few moments, her eyes soften, gaining some life to them once again. He wonders how lucky he is to have the best mom in the entire world, to have one so strong. ' _Or_ ', he remembers the people— the _women,_ dying outside, ' _are all mothers this strong?'_

A sharp scream tears through the crackling of burning wood. Robin cries out. The scream changes, words piercing the night.

 _"Stop! please stop—!"_

His mother grabs his face, opens her mouth, and sings the words. He snaps his eyes shut and burrows into her cloak.

"STOP!"

He feels her lift him, holding him close. As the scream cuts out, Robin's frozen. A tense silence weighs heavily in the air; suffocating. Slowly raising his head, Robin notices his mother still as stone, and wonders, _'Is it over..?'_

And another scream breaks the silence.

Robin slams his hands over his ears, begging for all of it to just, _'Stop!'_

His mother shifts and her voice is closer, blocking out everything else. With closed eyes, Robin focuses only on her voice.

Only seconds pass before his mother jerks. Opening his eyes he's not surprised to see she's still watching from the window, seeing what was going on out there; a massacre. burning bodies, bloodied streets, and ash-filled air. _'Holy Fire,'_ those bad men call it.

His insides burn, and her song ends.

* * *

 _The pain in his eyes gets worse. Still, he keeps them open, fighting through the ash, and hanging onto his mother's back. People run, screaming, and he knows the_ _ **monsters**_ _are close. He can hear his pulse and he's sure his mother can feel his fear. A man's face flashed through his mind, a red miasma fills the air, and he just wants it all to—_

" _ **-Go away!"**_

* * *

He wishes this were a nightmare, but he's not going to just _wake up_. This is reality, and the monsters are real. A sob wracks his body "...All those people..." _...how they burned…_

Chaos, Robin realizes, is greedy. It takes everything for itself, leaving nothing but destruction behind. Towns become ruins, and the people in them swallowed by despair. While those still alive fight for their very lives, fire consumes their homes. Robin leans further onto his mother's chest, no longer supporting his own weight. He sees the face of the woman who laughed with his mom, her chestnut hair reflecting the summer sun. He remembers the old man's burly laugh as he gave them extra food from the market. _'And the family who_ _ **welcomed us here...'**_ Gone. He can't help the sobs that break loose.

 _'We shouldn't have come here.'_

A Wyvern's scream sounds from outside, and the young mother feels her insides freeze with fear. _'So close...!'_ She pleads once again for Robin to _just_ be _quiet_. _'But,'_ She continues to rock him, _'it's not his fault.'_ She looks to the window, all of this? Was _**That man's**_ fault. Her lip trembles and she sucks in a shaky breath. _'No,'_ she thought. _'I can't break down here. Not now—_ ' she looks down to her little boy—, _'not when I still have someone to protect.'_

Robin chokes on his tears and the sound sends her looking down to his dirty face. Seeing the tears spill down his cheeks, leaving a clean trail in its wake, pain blossoms from her chest. Ignoring her trembling hand, she caresses his face, smearing ash. "Shush, shush, we need to keep quiet, okay?"

Robin gives a small nod, eyes puffy. The action adds to her aching heart. _'He is my strong boy.'_

"M-Mom..." His voice is hoarse, cracking.

"Yes...?" She leans in closer, their voices barely above a whisper.

"Why—" He looks away, hesitating.

No, she won't have that; not now, not ever. Tilting his head up, she forces him to meet her eyes again, willing him to remember her rules.

 _'Hesitation will get you killed.'_

Robin's grey eyes harden with a new light, a glint of his mother's strength. He remembers her words as they echo in his head. Licking his dry lips, he tries again, "...Why is this _happening?"_

From any other child, it would've been an innocent question. But Robin's voice had held a certain steely force behind it. And she knows he'd asked the question, not for reassurance but because it was something to figure out. She feels a twinge of pride. Already he was using his brain to such a level. At the same time, however, the action also hurts; he's so young. A sad smile spreads across her face. _'Why_ is _it happening?'_ She wants to laugh. _'...Why indeed?'_

She takes her time to think as her son stays quiet. Breathing through her nose, she leans back, looking into his now clear eyes rimmed with red, and he looks back. Reflecting off his mother's seas of grey, the flames outside dance like fireflies.

* * *

A woman sat in her living room, a strong sense of unease built up from her stomach. She took a deep breath and got up, her long white hair came down in waves. The woman walked to the window near her fireplace and placed her hand on the stone windowsill. She thought of nothing, only waiting in silence as the cold night air drifted in, blowing gently across her pale skin. It was freezing, but nothing she wasn't used to— and with the warm fire against her back, it was welcome.

Plant life stuck close to the houses that trailed down the dirt road, leaving the rest of the space open. Roads she knew, lead to the town square, where fountains of fresh water burst with life. _'Where people would gather, selling wares, talking, laughing, singing.'_ She thought of her sweet boy Robin and smiled. _'Where children would go to play.'_

Her gaze drifted to the houses, and her unease lessened upon seeing the beautifully colored cloth that draped along the rooftops. Patterns of all kinds decorated the sand-colored houses; some merely plant life, animals, the sun, and stars; others, gods taking flight. Deep purples and golds took up a majority of the beautiful fabrics, but blues, reds, and greens could be seen on smaller textiles. Lit up by firelight, they gave that night a new way of life.

In the cold night air, people wore thicker clothing, ate warm foods, and danced in the streets. The towns of Plegia awoke with life, and though the war still raged on, people would not lose their way of life; they did not want to lose this sense of normalcy. People still sang, while others danced, spinning their bright clothing to create a wonderful flurry of color, still dominated by shades of purple. Plegia truly was a country born for the nightlife.

She took another deep breath, smelling fresh food in the distance. Being farther away from the center of town, she was happy her night was quiet. By this time, she'd almost dismissed her unease, thinking that she was simply worried about nightmares of the past; that nothing would happen.

It was then that the first scream tore through the air. It struck her core, causing her heart to leap into her throat, and her head snapped in its direction; past the sea of houses and further back. Wide grey eyes danced about, searching the shadows, but finding nothing. For a moment, nothing happened, and she waited, frozen like an animal before a beast. And the sickening unease from before grew, coming back and overtaking her senses.

Then came destruction. An explosion of magic burst from the sounds general direction, sending out shock waves that spread across the small town. Her heart climbed into her throat as, in the distance, fire climbed towards the sky. Fabric on houses moved with the oncoming force; whipping around frantically like caged birds. Vases outside shattered, doors flew open, and wood snapped as carts were ripped apart. The wind hit her face and she stumbled back. _'This isn't a normal attack, this is...!'_

The floor beneath her rolled, and the walls began to rattle. Furniture and household artifacts fell over, causing the woman to spit out a curse, and turn on her heel. Thinking only of her son, she shouted, "Robin— _!"_ only to stop at seeing her boy tumble into the living room, in his arm he held her wadded-up purple cloak.

He looked to her face with red eyes wide in fear, "Mo _m!"_

She ran forward, sweeping him up into her arms feeling how his little heart raced. Robin hung onto her coat; He didn't know what was going on, but he had an idea— still, that didn't mean he wasn't scared. Limp in her arms, only her voice comforted him, "It's going to be okay my little bird. I'll protect you." She swallowed, and raised him up, looking to his youthful face. When he met her grey eyes she asked, "You remember what to do right?"

Robin nodded his head, "Y-yes."

She grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes., "Then let's go."

Robin stayed quiet, ducking his head. Taking one last look at the living room, their home, she turned back and ran into the hallway.

She raced by, ignoring the paintings and fabrics that adorned her son's bedroom door, through the back door. Her foot snapped up to kick it open, and without a word, they were outside, feet pounding on the hard dirt.

"I need my coat, little bird." He quietly handed it to her.

She pulled her arm through the first sleeve, and moved her son to her other arm, as she fitted that one through too. Safe from the cold, Robin locked onto her torso, arms around her neck, legs wrapped around her waist; all that was left to do was to hang on.

His mother continued to run down the dirt road, farther away from the town square, away from the people. Breathing in the cold night air, it scraped against her throat. A small hand touched her face, and she felt her scarf pulled up over her mouth. They didn't say anything to each other, but the love for her son burned brightly. Heaving his weight up higher, she picked up speed in the darkness. The houses began to spread out as they twisted and zipped past, leaving more land to the open.

Another pulse of magic exploded across the town, causing the very earth to shake. She fell to her knees, covering her son with her body. People screamed in the distance, and it was then that she realized one of those voices called for her.

"— _ia!"_

Looking up, she saw a familiar man with dark skin rushing towards them.

"Nour!" She called back.

When he reaching them, Nour helped her up. The man was sweating, breathing heavily, and to her surprise, he hugged her, wrapping her up in his muscular arms.

She tensed up, unused to such contact, ' _What is...?'_ She tightened her grip on her son, ready to push Nour away, and it's then she hears his choked gasp. Feeling the man's shuttering frame she relaxed. His familiar husky voice vibrated throughout his chest, and she thought, not unkindly, _'What a mess.'_ and listened.

" _I—!"_ He swallowed bringing her closer. "—I didn't think I'd make it."

She opened her mouth, leaning into his embrace, with her son safely between them. "But you have, and we are safe." They pulled apart and she stood tall, with her son on her hip. "We have to go before we're caught up in this madness." She stepped back, and Robin looked back at Nour with wide eyes.

Nour's face hardened, but he didn't move, "I'm not leaving you."

She smiled, and only Robin felt her grip tighten, "I know."

/

She wanted to cry, all her warmth gone, taken away like everything she's loved.

She felt Robin's shäking body as he continued to cry on her shoulder; his small hands still hanging onto her neck.

She looked down at him, and she felt more pain, _'I haven't lost everything.'_ She looked forward, and though it was hard to breathe, she continued to run.

She saw Nour's face in her head and felt hot tears as they began to fall. ' _That_ _ **stupid**_ _man!'_ She snarled, but the words have no sting, and the thought merely faded away. Fueled by a growing anger she did not look back. The only way to keep Robin safe was to do as he said. So, with her beloved son in her arms, her only option was to run away, _'Again.'_

The screams hadn't stopped, but they have slowed down. Sometimes it'll be a few minutes before another voice pierced through the chaos. All of this the fault of _**that**_ monster.

She blinked again, and Nour's fearful face as he demanded she go burned behind her eyelids; it was then she knew she will remember it _forever._

They make it to the cellar just as the fires overtake the nearby rooftops.

* * *

When the memory fades, she knows it won't stay that way.

The ground beneath them shakes, upsetting the dust from the ceiling above; causing it to rain down upon them, the two barely react to it, stiff as the action had already grown so common. With an aching heart, the white-haired woman opens her stormy-grey eyes and looks down to her son. Staring at his ash-coated hair, she feels a sudden wave of tiredness wash over her, _'He'll need another bath soon.'_

Looking past him, she stares at the shelves holding rows of bottles of wine, and remembers part of her plan, _'All that's left to do is wait.'_ Crouching low to the ground, they keep to the back of the room, far from the entrance above. It had already been three hours since _it_ started. The only reason they're able to keep hidden for so long is because of her magic. But, the hexes are only temporary. And as time ticks by she knows they'll eventually find her.

At the crackle of flickering flames, she turns back to the window. The shattered window is a small thing near the ceiling, but its size belied its actual usefulness. It was really their only way to see what was happening from the outside. Shuddering, she looks away from the orange flames. _'We don't need a window to be able to hear the screams from outside, to know that people are still_ _ **dying.'**_

When she speaks her voice fills the room, "Because hate is dangerous." Robin flinches away from her harsh tone, brows furrowed.

They watch each other, and when he tilts his head, her eyes soften. _'Ah...'_ and she clarifies, "That is why it is happening. Because hate is dangerous."

Her boy's eyes glimmer with recognition and he waits. The fire in her roars and she turns away, finding that she could no longer look at his face. The right side of her body leans against the stone wall and her free arm is still wrapped around her son. Tilting her head up, she watches the flashes of orange and red flicker through the broken glass of the window... Everything blurs together.

Robin watches his mother, heart beating as curiosity and fear run through his veins. Her face twists, and when she speaks, her words came out in a snarl. "If one _loses themselves to their own hatred,_ they will always cause _**pain."**_

Robin believes her.

A moment passes, then, to his relief, his mother's face smooths out, becoming soft again. Grey, almost white eyes look back to her son, "Robin… you must never lose yourself to the darkness that can grow within a person's heart."

He fumbled, mind racing to catch up with his mouth carelessly, "...I—!"

 _"—Promise me...!"_

A speck of fear laces his heart, and Robin pauses. He feels with all his being that this promise was important. The way the words felt heavy, commanding. He takes a deep breath, and standing straight he looks into his mother's eyes, "I promise."

No one moves.

She studies his face for what feels like minutes, light grey eyes unwavering. Then, she smiles and the tense air vanishes. His eyes widen in surprise as he's pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Surrounded by her sudden warmth, he's too shocked to notice her tears.

 _If only we could stay this way forever._

His mother kisses the top of his head over and over again. Knowing he would keep his promise for as long as he remembered it.

Then she stills. The screaming outside stops, leaving behind the eerie crackle of burning wood. Picking her son up she draws him back behind her, near the wall.

They can only wait. Time seems to stretch on forever. She knows they'll come, their small hiding place now a dead end. They were searching for survivors, and it was only a matter of time—

Heavy footsteps thump from above the ceiling. Both hold their breath in the darkness. The footsteps walk slowly across the wooden floor above, searching. Robin's mother counts one, two… at least three different-sounding steps. When they stop, she focuses on the spot. One set of footsteps— accompanied with the sound of clanking metal— moves towards the door that leads into the cellar. Reaching into her cloak she picks up her tome— an old purple book— and gets into a fighting stance.

Crouching in front of her son, she raises her arm, and speaks his name, "Robin." Her boy moves swiftly, climbing underneath her cloak, and onto her left side. Robin wraps his arms and legs around her side, like a baby wyvern hanging onto their mother. Hanging on for dear life, he shuts his eyes and waits, hidden from the world.

She feels his added weight but continues to watch the ceiling intently. Sweat slides down her neck, and her heartbeat is loud in her ears. She didn't think she'd ever feel fear this suffocating every again. Taking a deep breath, she tries to settle herself.

Raising her hand, a spell dances at her fingertips, preparing herself like a coiled snake. Fluctuating her magic, the temperature drops. Like she's stepped into another time, another place. Light shines through slits between the wooden floorboards. And a deep commanding voice speaks, "Down there." She can't stop the familiar feeling of adrenaline that shoots through her veins.

She _knows_ that voice.

The other footsteps come forth, and she recounts, one, two, three... nine people— but her mind screams, _'You can't trust those numbers, others could be waiting outside!_ ' The people above move towards the open cellar door, causing her deep breathing to turn ragged.

She throws her hood up.

The cellar isn't big but, it's not small either: thirty feet forward and back, with shelves creating six simple walkways leading to the back of the room. Feeling her son's fast heartbeat, she clenches her jaw in anger. She steps out from behind the large shelf that had obscured them from view. Her fingers dig into the cover of her tome. _'This is it; nowhere left to run and nowhere left to hide.'_

In an explosion of sound, the cellar door pulls open. Light flashes, taking up the entrance. Her son jolts up, and she blinks against the painful light, narrowing her eyes. At first, nothing happens, and a silence settles over the dark room. Moments pass and the light dims, she leans forward, waiting. A tall figure overshadows the entrance. The stairway creaks—

 _ **"—Shaver!"**_

Wood explodes, and chips go flying.

" _Fuck—_ _ **!"**_

The shelves slam into each other, clearing the middle of the room. Heavy feet rush away from the entrance and while standing in the open, her grip tightens around her son. " _—vermin downstairs!"_

Her lips curl in disgust, but she stays still, watching. The figure from before is gone, leaving the entrance empty. She hears people moving quickly, and another figure looks into the cellar below. They drop straight down, heavy boots hitting stone.

Robin's grip tightens, and she heaves him up higher.

She swallows, and it's quiet as the man stands before them. The stranger takes one long look at her and laughs. Watching the dark figure take up a new stance, and hearing the familiar sound of humming magic— she strikes out.

" _ **Shaver—!"**_

"— _ **Fire!"**_

Wind and fire meet in a bright flash. Swallowing the very air, before exploding outwards. The force sends her skittering backward. Her cloak's the only thing protecting her from the rush of flames. Grounded, she moves before her mind can keep up. The left side of the room's now engulfed in flames. The new fire illuminates her attacker's face and she sees his green eyes flash with _Hatred._

She doesn't stop running.

The mage in front of her wields a simple fire tome because a stronger spell would've incinerated the room. _'That's probably why he used it.'_

The man's red hair flies upward in motion. A crazed expression morphs his face into something ugly. His mouth opens and he raises his arm.

She turns and throws out her hand.

Magic explodes from her fingertips. The two colliding forces of fire and wind erupt in another bright flash. And she sees the man shield his face. Her adrenaline spikes, _'Now!'_ And with her attacker blind, she twists, throwing off the purple cloak; Her son _gone._

With a loud _shiiiing!_ her sword is drawn.

With the fire now behind her, lighting up the rest of the room, she's left in shadow. A striking silhouette surrounded by flame. To her right, lay her cloak, discarded near the window. And to her left, the entrance of the room. She shuffles her feet, holding out her sword, and feels it come to life as electricity runs up and down the blade.

The mage snarls, "You—!"

A new figure leaps from the entryway, and the sound of clashing metal resounds around the room.

"— _bitch!"_

Robin's mother stares into the face of her new attacker. Their blades locked as they meet each other's eyes. The new woman's face lights up as she openly laughs, "Found _you!"_

"Shut up."

The two pushback from each other and the dance begins.

Rushing each other, the other woman— blue eyes, blond hair— meets her head on. The fighters push each other around, ducking, swiping, and slashing the other with a voracity saved for battles of life and death. She ducks back, just as her opponent's rapier swipes over her head.

With that Robin's mom thrusts forward, aiming the electric blade into the woman's left side, and misses.

The blonde sees her chance and slices downwards into the mother's back. For a split second, time slows. A smile slips onto the mother's face, and the blonde feels a spike of fear. They make eye contact, and Robin's mother snarls back, _"Die."_

Electricity shatters into the blonde's side and she's sent flying into a wall.

"Abel!"

Her cold grey eyes, lock onto the redheaded mage from before. His tome comes to life. She leaps to the side, dodging a powerful stream of fire. Standing tall she raises her bare arm, protecting her face from the immense heat as it streams by her. Long, white hair whips around her face, and she grits her teeth as the fire adds to the growing flames behind her.

' _Emotions make magic uncontrollable,'_ she grimaces, _'but considerably stronger.'_ She turns on the mage, grey eyes flash with the promise of death, "Let this be quick." and bolts forward.

The mage stumbles, raising his book as he scrambles to conjure another spell, "S- stay back _.!"_

He's too late.

She stares into his horrified face as her sword plunges into his stomach. He chokes, and she feels his stomach convulse around her blade. Blood pools from his mouth only to run down his chin. She sneers in disgust and pulls back. For a moment his eyes widen just a fraction more, and then they dull. His lifeless body falls to the ground unceremoniously.

At the sound of creaking wood, she turns to see two new people drop from the entrance. Her grip on her Levin sword tightens and her eyes turn to slits, _'About time.'_ Her heart beats loudly in her ears and she catches the shine of armor. Lit up in a fiery glow— the fire now far behind her— a man and woman stand before her. She faces them, making sure there's enough distance between them, "Done playing games?" She taunts with a clear voice.

The man tilts his head and she watches as he seems to speak to the woman next to him. Her ears strain, but his voice doesn't carry. When he looks back to Robin's mother, his face hidden by a helmet, her fears spike. She feels her magic tensing, ready at a moment's notice. He raises a hand to his helmet, taking it off. The sight of his dark-blue hair, covered in ash, hits her hard.

She spits, "Exalted _scum!"_

His face remains impassive, cold. If he was any other man she'd have said he was beautiful. But here? Behind dead eyes, you could see the rotting of his soul. A god about to pass down judgment. Flickering her eyes at the other's she notices the look of outrage, the woman takes a step towards her— _'The other attackers must've been her friends.' —_ only to stop.

The Exalt unsheathes his sword, the sound ringing throughout the room. The legendary Falchion aimed straight for her. She licks her lips, _'Remember the plan.'_ and steps forward—

" _Mama—!"_

Her world shuts down. With wide eyes, her head whips back to the discarded purple coat, and beside it stands her vulnerable baby boy. Robin's arms are outstretched, reaching for her; his face full of fear.

Looking to the Exalt, her insides freeze and thoughts scatter. The man's face is one of pure, merciless _hatred. 'No.'_ Her shoulders rise like hackles.

She looks to the woman standing— and her stomach drops.

She spins, raising her sword as a figure comes flying at her.

Weapons clash and she slides back, face to face with the rogue. The other woman's face is hidden in shadow. Only her bare teeth can be seen, as she growls, "You killed my sister, _Grimreal whore."_

Robin's mother bites her tongue, "Like I give a damn."And her blade sparks with life.

The hooded woman only pushes closer forcing the electric blade up.

And the mother's hands feel numb as she tries to swallow down her panic. She needs to find a way to get to her son, _'But it's too fucking hard to think right now!'_

Staring into her attacker's shadowed face, she sends her foot into the woman's chest. Her attacker gasps and falls back. The mother takes an unsteady breath, free for the moment, and looks back to her little bird. What she sees sends her thoughts to a dead stop.

The Exalt stares in her son's direction, a hand resting on the legendary sword. Her fear for her son's safety threatens to suffocate her, and she leans forward, one foot in front of the other, nerves alive as she prepares to run.

She leaps, just as the downed woman strikes out. Her eyes turn animalistic, lips curling and teeth bare, " _Argh!"_ Weapons clash.

Slash.

Stab.

Dodge.

Pain cuts into her left shoulder.

Leap.

Rush.

Slice.

Blood splatters and her sword fly's out of her hand— _'Damn it!'—,_ clanging against the concrete floor.

It's so damn hard to breathe, and she stares wide-eyed down at her blade. Her white hair's a mess, sweat causing it to stick to her neck. It's like she can't feel her own body; her brain's so full of mush, everything comes at her through fogged glass.

"Mom!"

Her head snaps up, eyes zeroing in on her son. He's scared, lost, and when she hears the movement of armor everything turns red, _**'No!'**_ White hot anger floods her veins. Stormy-grey eyes turn to the woman in front of her.

The woman's bleeding heavily from her right arm. Blood streams down her bent elbow, splattering against the floor. She's got a white-knuckled grip on her dagger, and she breathes so loudly her whole body shudders with the movement. But Robin's mom doesn't care, and her magic crackles. She raises both arms, bending them at the elbow, and leans forward. Taking one last glance at the Exalt; he's looking right at her, smiling. Her anger spasms, threatening to consume her. Seeing the Exalt raise his sword, taking a hauntingly slow step towards her son, she snaps.

" _Get—!"_

She aims for the woman's injured side and is met head-on. She doesn't even need to think; turning on her heel she spins right past her enemy.

"— _away—!"_

She reaches into her pocket.

"— _from—!"_

The Exalt swings downwards.

"— _ **my—!"**_

Lightning strikes—

"— _ **SON!"**_

—And the house above blasts apart.

The Exalts sword hits air and the destructive force pushes him back. A cloud of thunder and lightning bursts forth, engulfing both mother and son. The woman standing near the rising flames cries out. The sight of an active storm cloud causes her mind to blank. She looks to her Exalt and sees him where the entrance used to be. But she won't risk running to him, feet planted in place as pieces of house rain down— And they are left with flame and ash.

Thick clouds roll past him, covering the floor in a dense fog. In front of him, the cumulonimbus flashes with lightning as thunder rumbles from within. The fire crackles wildly while black smoke climbs upwards.

The injured woman moves to her Exalt's side. Licking her lips and tasting static in the air. Nothing else happens for a moment, but she knows times almost up. Chills run up her spine and she curses, "My lord! We need to— _!"_

An earth-shattering roar, so overwhelmingly loud, drowns out her voice. She leaps back, nearly tripping over her own legs, and looks up. Horror fills her heart, and her chest tightens as she sees a pair of large, scaled wings stretch out. Their size blocks out the sky, covering what's left of the cellar. The woman bites her tongue and swallows her scream. She can only watch as the wings, in one swift movement, flap—and they clear the storm.

She falls to her knees, 'I'm going to die; there's no way we can—' She looks to the man standing beside her, and he hasn't moved. The fear builds, and she taste betrayal, _'Didheknowdidheknowdidhe—?!'_ She sees her sister's face, 'DidHE—DID HE LET!' Her stomach churns and she covers her mouth with her bloody hand. Tears wash over her eyes, '—DID HE _LET HER_ _**D I E—!?'**_

The Exalt laughs, and she looks up at him through blurry vision. The man raises his sword, and another roar causes the ground to shake. "So I have finally found you," He takes a step forward, "Grima's _filthy_ bloodline."

He meets the dragon's piercing grey eye, _"Elysia."_

/

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Authors Note:

So, who else thinks fire emblem is lacking in dragons?

Thank you for reading! I have to thank SilverIcefire, skydancing dragon, and lexitactics for beta reading my story. Seriously without them, this would've never even been written!

Here's just some info on the chapter:

Nour's name (Yes not Noir) is a common Arabic unisex name meaning light.

(Robin's mother) Elysia's name means 'Lightning-struck' and is greek (I think.)

And last but not least, I will be adding more to the culture of Plegia, because we don't really see a lot of it in the game.

Also! Robin's skin color in this is darker (caramel-brown) because he lives in the freaking desert, and I wanted him to have traits from both parents; his mother's white hair, and his father's darker skin (tho lighter because his mother is white in this lolz). The Ruby red eyes are because he was originally going to be full on Albino, like pale skin, low vision etc. But I found living in the dessert that would suck! And I felt bad for him…

I've planned out SO MUCH for this fanfic (as I do with every story I write...)

So, just a warning: THIS IS A SLOW SLOW SLOOOOW BURN!

I'm one of those writers where it's very hard for me to actually START the story cause i'm a perfectionist. Seriously, I wrote the first draft of this in June on a whim (lolz i was bored) and I was going to just keep it to myself. But I decided to look for a Beta-reader at the start of August, and here I am now! Ta-da!

Man, it's gonna be craycray next chapter ;A; I'm gonna die...

ANYWAY! Question time!

What do you think Robin's wearing right now? /bows/


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